After Hours
by Dylan Cruca
Summary: A collection of Jeller-related missing Season 3 scenes and one-shots based on episodes.
1. Trying-Post Episode 3x02

**A/N-there are so many things I'd like to see in Season 3! I get that Blindspot is an action show at heart, but I'm GREEDY for Jeller. Hehe. Most chaps will just be short scenes or additions to episodes. So I'm going to start this fic as a place to put all of those scenes and one-shots. They won't necessarily be in order, but ideally I'd like to do one per episode. I'll reference which episode in each chapter for context. I'll update this one as the muse strikes. Some will be smutty, some not. I'll mark the lower-rated chaps as such for those who prefer those stories.**

* * *

 **Trying-Post Episode 3x02**

 **Mild M-rating**

To be perfectly honest, Jane was a little hurt that Kurt sent her out with Zapata and Patterson during the only really free evening they'd had since their return. Her friends had asked quite persistently, and he very calmly said, "Go. Have fun. I'll be home when you're done."

As much as she'd hesitated to go, once she was there she had so much fun, laughing and joking with her friends over drinks. Shortly after six, Patterson and Zapata both dropped her like a bad penny, offering her a ride home as if they had much better things to do. This was all feeling suspiciously like a setup.

The romantic part of her brain thought maybe Kurt was planning a surprise for her. The suspicious part wondered if he needed time to take care of something without her. She had yet to learn about the details of his life in the previous eighteen months. Apart from the fact that he'd been "looking for her," she knew very little. He'd asked her a million questions when they went on their date, and listened to every story she'd told like it was the most interesting thing he'd ever heard. And she'd had enough stories to fill the few hours they had alone.

On the cab ride home from drinks with her friends, she felt a bit guilty for not asking him more about his life. She hadn't meant to avoid asking him, but she'd had so much she'd wanted to tell him, things she'd wanted him to know, and he certainly kept asking questions, never giving her a chance to ask any in return. As always, their time was broken by work. Wasn't there a happy medium between living in Colorado with far _too much_ time on her hands and being back at work where there was never _enough_ time free time?

The door was unlocked, and instead of finding that welcoming, she worried that someone had broken in. Carefully entering the room, she saw Kurt hurry across the hall wearing only a towel, damp footprints left in his wake. "Are you okay?" she asked, looking around the room and seeing their furniture and tons of boxes before she locked the door.

"Fine. Just grabbed a quick shower," he shouted from the other room. "Sit down, have a drink."

It felt nice to sit on their sofa and put her feet up. A bottle of wine waited on the coffee table with two glasses, and on the back of the bottle she saw the label designating vegan wine. Most people probably didn't know how considerate he could be, but he had often shown her that since they'd been together.

"You know you don't have to get me drunk to get laid," she shouted back, teasing.

"You should have told me that before I bought the wine," he countered, feigning complaint as he popped back in the room.

"Our stuff is all here?"

"Yup. Reade gave me a hand after the movers brought it up. We're far from done, but there's fresh sheets on the bed, and a fully stocked fridge."

"You've been busy."

"I have," he answered with a grin, hurrying out to the kitchen to answer the call of a timer. "I didn't have a chance to unpack all of the boxes. But I thought we could do that together…figure out where we want everything. It's a fresh start, so I want to make sure things are the way you want them, too."

When the oven opened, steam billowed from inside and the delicious smells were enough to make her put down her glass of wine and investigate.

"No peeking," he ordered, spinning something in the oven that looked like lasagna.

"Kurt…" she sheepishly said, "vegan means no dairy, I'm so sorry, but—"

"I know," he interrupted, proudly gleaming. "I consulted an expert. Trust me, I've got this all under control. Go sit down."

"Okay," she replied, sauntering back to the sofa.

While he hurried around the apartment, they talked, discussing whether or not they should paint and where to put the many boxed items they'd had delivered from storage. It was nice being home, but no matter how hard she tried to get Kurt to pause and relax, she couldn't seem to quite get there. It was like hitting a moving target in the dark.

He came over and sat on the coffee table in front of her, bracing his elbows on his knees. "It'll be just a few more minutes. Took a little longer to prep since it's the first time I've made anything like this. I'm still figuring things out."

"Kurt, you don't have to—" her words faded into a hum when he leaned over her lap and kissed her, his hands sliding behind her hips and down over her ass to her thighs before he jerked her knees forward, bringing her almost to the edge of the sofa as her body slumped down.

"What are you doing?" she smirked knowingly.

"Appetizer," he explained, wiggling an eyebrow. "I missed this," he added, his voice rumbling while his fingers plucked open the button on her pants.

"Me too," she agreed. Trying to finish her earlier thought, she added, "But you don't have to—"

"Up," he ordered, kneeling in front of her and waiting for her to lift her hips so he could tug her pants down to her ankles. He looked at her shoes, seemed irritated by the knots he found in her laces, and elected to lift her feet over his head, her pants still connecting her ankles while he slid his shoulders between her legs.

He pushed her knees apart, his hands pressing them to the sofa while he brought his mouth to the apex of her thighs. He wiggled his tongue, parting her flesh and immediately drawing the low moan he'd sought from her chest. How many times had she thought about him like this, at least until thinking about him began to make her miss him far too much. None of that mattered, though, now that they were together again and finding their footing. He'd welcomed her back without a second thought.

He slid two fingers inside her, bringing her body to his face so he could lavish her sex with kisses and licks that made her back arch and fingers dig into his shoulders while she held on. He'd always been attentive, good at responding to subtle cues, and he hadn't forgotten her body in the time that she'd been gone.

Being back with him felt so wonderful in a million different many ways. She could have held him between her legs like that for days, wishing that the pleasure could stretch for so much longer than reality would allow. It was almost over too soon, her body hitting the point of climax with a fury that shattered her.

Feeling something momentarily that reminded her of sadness and worry, she remembered a few seconds later that she would still be with him tomorrow, and the next day. This wasn't a temporary situation. This was, she prayed, an actual marriage with a couple who lived together in their daily lives. Sighing a, "Damn that felt good," she reminded herself that this was both a continuation and a new beginning. Hopefully they were building something even better than what they'd had before.

His tongue tickled her sex one last time, her body contracting with a harsh pulse that made her sit up, and she saw his eyes staring playfully up at her from between her legs. God, she really loved that man.

Her relaxation was interrupted when she felt him maneuvering her legs over his head, and she remembered her pants were still on because he was too impatient to bother with her shoes.

"Be back," he said, placing a final kiss on her hip before he took a step away.

"Wait," she groaned, grabbing at his hand because she wasn't ready to give up the warmth of his touch just yet.

She realized then that the timer was going off, and he said, "Gotta get that or I'll burn dinner two nights in a row."

Standing was, to say the least, inconvenient, but she decided to get rid of her disheveled clothes, so she went to their room for her robe. She chuckled as she saw her hair in the mirror, already mussed up and scattered in all directions. Something clanged in the kitchen, and she heard Kurt curse at whatever frustrated him, and she was reminded of the conversation she'd wanted to have before he'd knelt in front of her on the sofa.

Coming out to the kitchen, she offered, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You're already doing it," he smiled, picking up two hot, full plates with dish towels and nodding toward the balcony.

He'd lit a candle out there, the flame dancing from the breeze. They sat across from each other and she studied her plate. Sensing her concern, he said, "I promise, everything on your plate is 100% vegan approved. I checked. Even dessert is safe, I got that special sugar that—"

"Dinner is perfect, Kurt," she reassured. "Thank you."

He handed her utensils wrapped in a napkin and said, "Eat up. Try the rolls."

She took a bite of the garlic and herb knotted roll he'd obviously made from scratch, given the flour she'd seen speckling the kitchen. Her eyes flashed open, as she chewed, "Seriously? This is vegan?"

"Cross my heart," he replied, appearing pleased by her reaction.

"I believe you. I doubt you'd go through all of this hassle to make something I couldn't eat."

"So tell me more about that job you worked in Bud—"

"I don't want to talk about that," she interrupted, trying the eggplant rollatini that was so incredibly flavorful that it made her eyes roll into her head.

"Bet the monks never made you that."

"They didn't," she chuckled. "But you really didn't have to do all this."

"If you have to be back home, I should at least make it worth your while," he casually answered, continuing to eat.

She gave him an odd look to answer his statement, so he changed the subject.

"You don't have to talk about that job. Tell me about a different one," he requested.

"I don't want to talk about any jobs."

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No. Well…not really."

He looked like he suddenly wasn't feeling well. "What is it?"

"Why would you say that? That I 'have to be back home'?"

"Well, you were kinda forced to come back. I know you'd still be out there if our friends hadn't been kidnapped. I showed up and messed up your new life and—"

"Stop right there," she shook her head, feeling both sad and irritated. "I love you, Kurt. You doubt that?"

"I've never doubted that," he honestly responded. "But I took away the life you built and—"

"I _want_ to be here with you. We can each be ourselves and be together. I'm still helping people here. My presence isn't putting you or anyone else in danger. I never stopped wanting to be with you…never. I told you I was tired of running. I want this."

"So do I," he replied. "So we don't have a problem."

"You seem so nervous around me," she replied.

"Sorry. I want you to be happy here. I don't want to lose you again."

"I don't want you to constantly worry that I'm going to leave. I know I hurt you when I left. But I didn't have a choice. And I'm here, we're here, because we want to be. I appreciate what you're trying to do, supporting me, respecting the changes I made. I'm here to stay. You have nothing to be nervous about."

"That's good," he smiled, taking a bite.

She wasn't certain if he really believed her yet. It would take time, and if her only choice was to prove to him that she was just as devoted to him as he was to her, then she was okay with that. She was willing to show him what he meant to her.

She ate some more, complimenting the meal as she devoured it, and they shared more relaxed conversation.

Once she'd cleaned her plate, she said, "You know I still respect who you are, too…as an individual. You don't have to change for me."

He tilted his head, clearly baffled. "Change?"

"You don't have to become vegan for me. It's my choice and—"

He laughed, sounding more like himself, like the very thought was incomprehensible. "Yea. You don't have to worry about that. I'm not. Not ever."

"Oh good," she replied. "I'm really relieved to hear that."

"It's fine to eat like this on occasion. And a lot of stuff I can make for you, I can just slather over steak for me."

"Yea," she nodded, grinning from ear to ear.

"There's a Chinese place I heard about that's only a few blocks from here…there is a vegan version of every single dish on their menu. So we'll both be happy."

Hurrying to the kitchen to grab another roll, she returned, tossed one to him and admired, "You really are amazing in the kitchen. It took you twenty-four hours to master vegan cooking?"

"One recipe does not really qualify as mastery. But give me time and I'll expand my repertoire."

She sipped her wine, folded her hands in her lap, and said, "There is one thing that's really bugging me."

"Okay. Tell me," he insisted, putting down what was left of his roll and giving her his full attention.

He'd often been so good at that, focusing on her and really listening. She could feel the love that drove the effort.

She sighed woefully. "I'm not sure how to say this, but…"

Kurt swallowed, bracing himself for the worst.

She finally added, "You keep insisting on wearing pants and—"

He laughed again, his amusement honest, and nodded emphatically, "You know, you're right. I apologize. That was thoughtless of me."

"Talk is cheap," she answered, her eyes dancing.

She stood, leaning forward, offering him a view down the front of her robe as she blew out the candle. They each picked up their plates and took them to the kitchen. Standing in front of him, she suggested, "I have an idea."

"I can't wait to hear it."

"You took care of the appetizer…" she said, taking his hand and dragging him behind her, "so let me handle dessert."


	2. The Ring-Post Episode 3x03

**A/N-Happy Blindspot Day Eve! Here's my next S3 extra scene. It's a bit short, but hopefully enjoyable. Thanks SO MUCH to everyone for supporting this story.**

 **The Ring-Post Episode 3x03**

 **Rated T**

* * *

Kurt was disappointed that she never came to join him in the shower, but at least there was the promise of steak. He wondered who in the hell had called, and whether he should put on clothes. He was perfectly fine with waiting for dinner if Jane was interested in other pre-dinner activities. After all, he was already naked. He threw on a pair of exercise shorts, at least those were quick to get on and off again.

He heard a commotion in the other room and went immediately for his gun. For a moment, he wondered if all FBI Agents regularly needed to wield their weapons in their own homes.

Carefully assessing the situation as he peeked around the corner, he realized that the noise was just Jane, shoving furniture around the living room.

"Jane?" he asked, bewildered. "We need to rearrange the room tonight?"

She seemed startled by him, and startling Jane was a pretty rare occurrence. His eyes immediately went to the way the fingers on her right hand were fidgeting with the ring finger on her left. With substantial confusion, she nodded at the gun still in his hand and awaited an explanation. He engaged the safety and placed it on the table. "I heard a lot of noise. I figured, better safe than sorry," he explained. "What's going on out here?"

"Umm…nothing," she answered unconvincingly.

"Who was on the phone? Is everything okay?"

As she knelt down to the floor and started searching around the boards near the sofa, he realized her ring was not on her finger.

He tried not to allow the crushing sensation he'd felt when she'd left him before return, but this was feeling familiar in a very unpleasant way.

"Just tell me what's going on," he said as he came closer. "You have to leave?"

Her eyes wide with worry, she paused her search and looked up at him. "No, of course not. I'm not leaving."

"Good," he replied with an audible sigh of relief, stooping down in front of her. "Then what's going on?"

"I'm sorry," she said, her eyes showing a certain depth of remorse. "I just took it off for a minute…I spilled some sauce in the oven earlier and I was going to clean it up."

She paused, as if that were enough explanation. He knew that often when she was really stressed, she found ways to stay busy, sometimes exercise or sex or even household chores. Jane definitely seemed tense.

He took her hands and tried to get her full attention. As far as he was concerned, the appliances weren't really a high priority issue. "I don't care about sauce in the oven."

Chuckling sadly, she said, "I know. That's not the problem. I took off my ring and put it on the counter…the guy at the jewelry store said to take it off when I use abrasive cleaners."

"Oh," Kurt said, nodding as things became clearer. He stood to fetch the ring but didn't see it. The cleaner was on the counter next to the oven, and the spill was on the inside of the open oven door, confirming her story. "So what's the problem?"

"I wasn't paying attention, I tossed the extra cloth up here and I must have knocked my ring off the counter. Now I can't find it."

He stooped back down in front of her. "It's no big deal," he smiled at her obvious concern, finding it somewhat reassuring that she was so adamant about finding it.

"No big deal?"

"It's gotta be somewhere here in the apartment. I'll help. We'll find it."

"I've been looking. I don't see it anywhere."

"Okay," he replied calmly. As long as she was sticking around, he could handle whatever was thrown at them. "Worst case scenario, we go out and get you another one."

"That's not the point."

"It's just a ring," he reassured.

"Just a ring?" she asked, sitting back on her feet. Then she laughed with disbelief as she shook her head, and he wondered if he was in some kind of trouble. "Is that why you kept yours on after I left? Because it's _just a ring_?"

"Well...," he began, looking away, feeling ill-equipped to answer.

"Or why you carried mine with you the whole time, everywhere you went, and brought it back to me after going through god-knows-what to find me?"

"I dunno," he admitted. "It's symbolic. When you were gone, that was all I really had to hold on to."

"Exactly," she said. "You kept it safe while crisscrossing the world, looking for me for a year and a half, and I lost it in our kitchen a few days after I got it back."

"But the ring isn't all I have to hold on to anymore. I have you. And I'd rather have you than the ring any day. You're back and you're here...that's all that matters to me."

She stared at the wall, still looking disproportionately guilty.

He asked, "Where exactly did you put it when you took it off?"

Jane hopped up and pointed to the spot, "Right here. It was only supposed to be there for a few minutes."

"And where were you standing when you threw the cloth up here?"

She walked behind the counter and stood at the spot. "Here, I think," she ventured.

"Stay there," Kurt said, moving to the other side of the counter and lining up likely trajectories. He pointed out a possible search area. "Let's start here. If we don't find it here, we'll expand out to account for a possible bounce."

She joined him, mumbling, "I'm sure this is what you were hoping to do this evening."

"Well…if you want to make it more interesting, you could search naked," he opportunistically offered.

She stared her mild reprimand, and then said, "Because that would keep you focused on the search?"

"Good point," he conceded, kneeling on the floor and searching floorboard-by-floorboard. She took the spot next to him and began combing the section in front of her. He paused for a second and requested, "First search, then naked?"

She finally smiled softly. "A definite possibility."

After searching for a little while, she sincerely said, "Kurt, I really am sorry."

"It's not a problem. Like I said, if we have to, we'll buy a new one. Maybe even renew our vows or something." She didn't answer, and he felt himself reaching for words to fill the silent space. "If you want to. It's not necessary or—"

"That's not what I meant."

He stopped and looked at her, feeling like he was always waiting for an anvil to fall on his chest and ruin his happiness. "What did you mean?"

"I never wanted to hurt you."

"I know that," he replied. "Believe me, I… …" Kurt paused as he was speaking, and a little glimmer caught his attention. "That's a one-in-a-million shot."

"Hunh?" she asked, clearly wondering if her husband had completely lost his mind.

He stretched forward, his hand reaching for the space between the side edge of the cushion on a chair. He plucked the ring from its spot and held it up with a satisfied, "Gotcha."

Her expression lightened, and she lunged toward him and flung her arms around his neck. She smashed her body to his before she grabbed his face and planted a full kiss on his lips.

"I'm going to start stealing this and hiding it if this is the thanks I get when I find it," he teased.

She held out her hand and waited for him to drop it in her palm. "Just a minute," he hesitated as he thought.

"Let me guess, you want a demonstration of my _appreciation_ now?" she impishly accused.

"No," he shook his head. "I have a question."

"What?" Her eyes searched his face as she asked.

He held the ring up, pinched between his fingers. "Jane Doe? Do you still take this man? To have and hold and all of that? In the good times when he's the amazing man who finds your ring and is handsome and understanding and fantastic in bed…and also in the bad times when he says or does stupid things, including but not limited to dragging you across the country to start a new life or spending all of your joint funds?"

She grinned but nodded, "Of course I do," as she held out her finger and let him slide the ring back into place.

"Do you?" she asked. Clearing her throat and adopting a more ceremonial tone, she continued, "Kurt Weller? Do you still take this woman? To have and hold and all that? In the good times when she's a fantastic steak-grilling, butt kicking, attentive wife—"

"Gorgeous," he interrupted.

"What?"

"I can't agree to the vows unless you get them right," he joked. "This is all very official. 'My fantastic, steak-grilling, butt kicking, attentive, _gorgeous, sexy-as-hell_ , wife.' Those are the vows."

She smirked and said, "Fine…In good times with all that stuff you said…and bad times when she does what she thinks is right but it still hurts you, or does stupid things, including but not limited to opening potential explosive devices without waiting for the bomb squad?"

"Hell yea," he grinned as she tightened her arms around him. "She sounds perfect."

The static of reality momentarily slid away, replaced with thoughts of each other. She moved his hands under her shirt at her back and whispered, "Better consummate this whole thing again... since it's all very official."

"Just to be sure?"

"You know what you signed up for. Marriage is a lot of work," she said as her smile disappeared into a kiss.


	3. Disarmed—Mid-Episode 3x04

**A/N-Sorry for the delay, all, I've been sick, but hopefully I'm almost over it and can get a few chaps posted this week. (Perhaps a little OOC, but I went with it anyway.)**

 **Disarmed—Mid-Episode, 3x04**

 **Rated M**

After they returned from preventing the attack at New York Metro University, Jane looked somewhat nervously at Kurt. "Can we talk a second?"

"Of course," he said, tilting his head in the way he often did when they had serious conversations, signaling that she had his full attention.

"Not here," she replied, taking his wrist and tugging him through the hall and down a set of back escape stairs, far away from the rest of the team. "Remember the last bomb we disarmed?"

"How could I forget?" As they walked, she inspected him carefully, so he asked, "Something going on?"

"Making sure we're not on comms," she answered after checking to be sure he'd handed in his communication equipment when he'd turned in his vest.

"Why's that?"

She unlatched a closet door, shoving it open and pulling him inside as she said, her voice thick with desire, "Because I really don't want anyone else to hear this."

He looked around the cramped janitor's closet for a moment before she swung her arms around his neck and kissed him, standing on her toes so they were pressed together along the full length of their bodies. He hummed his agreement, his hands moving to her waist, only gently surrounding it.

Clearly sensing her intentions, he numbly asked when she paused, "At work?"

"Shh," she shook her head, stepping away and jamming a step ladder against the door so no one could open it. She practically jumped back into his embrace. "I don't want to think right now. I want to act. Like today…no time left and we made a choice and jumped over the edge." Her hands rubbed firmly up over his arms as she added, "It was impulsive. And hot."

His eyes relaxed the way they did when his active mind numbed with arousal. His lips slightly parted, he just nodded. "We're a good team," he said, his hands venturing cautiously to her ass like he was waiting for her to come to her senses and slap him away.

"It brought back so many feelings, like before, when we disarmed the bombs in the basement and the gym…I was sad and lost, but that night, when you kissed me…you were the only thing that cut through the pain. You felt comforting and… _right_. There really is no other word for it. You felt right. That's how you always feel."

"My timing sucks. I should have tried to win your heart before that."

"You didn't have to try. You'd already won it long before by just…being you. You were there for me that night, and if a man can be there for you, comforting you, when your family does something horrible and unforgivable like that…it's a pretty good sign that he'll stick with you through anything."

Kurt chuckled. "I wanted to take you far away from there. I knew I couldn't. But, god, I wanted to."

"That's what I wanted, too," she replied, a sense of excitement swelling in her chest. "I knew it was the wrong time, the wrong place. Everything else hurt, then there you were…and when you touched me, kissed me, it didn't hurt quite as much."

"I hate the Secret Service," he managed, a little breathless.

"Me too," she softly giggled.

"I didn't want to let you go."

As they kissed, she unbuttoned his shirt, her hands moving over his chest, the fuzzy warmth of his skin beneath her fingers. She lifted against him, curling one leg behind his, her hip rubbing against the front of his jeans as he groaned, helpless to prevent the vocalization.

"We only have a few minutes," she replied, kicking a mop bucket and mop to the side to give them an open space of wall between a utility sink and a set of tall metal shelves.

As she turned back to find him, he was already down on one knee, untying her shoe and loosening the laces through what felt like a hundred pairs of eyelets, so she went to work on the other shoe. The second he was done and her shoes were off, he stood and lifted her from the ground, encouraging her thighs to part and her legs to embrace his hips. He pressed her into the wall, his stomach firm against her clothed sex, now rendering her powerless to remain silent, her hips rocking against him at the muted but present bursts of pleasure that their movements produced.

She leaned her shoulders back against the wall, her legs still locked around him. He let go of her, knowing that she would hold onto him, and she did. He reached between their bodies and opened the belt that seemed so heavy and thick around her narrow waist, immediately popping her pants' button open. He unhooked her knees from his hips, placing her feet back on the floor and forcing his hands between the cloth and her hips as the zipper chose to part rather than be destroyed.

She tugged at his belt, feeling that to wait any longer to have him inside her would be torment, the pressure of the day ordering her to have him. As soon as his zipper was open, she reached into his boxers, pumping his cock like they were racing against yet another inescapable countdown.

His arm encircled her body, his hand grasping her waist as he lifted her up while she used each foot to kick down her opposite pant leg, and as soon as both legs were free, they wrapped back around Kurt and hooked resolutely behind his thighs. His one arm still hanging onto her like it was its sole purpose, she felt the impatient way he shoved his pants and boxers down as far as necessary so they wouldn't impede them.

His fingers moved between her thighs, in search of her heat, and upon finding her wetness, immediately slipped inside. She nearly surrendered to the desire to first allow his hand to bring her orgasm, savoring the way his fingers pressed toward the front of her with each withdrawal. As her breaths became moans, she knew she wouldn't be able to hold off much longer. She pulled his hand away, smiling sweetly at the disappointed grunt he gave in response to the loss of her warmth.

The disappointment evolved into one of those long, tender stares, his eyes fixing on hers while his hand latched onto her ass so she wouldn't fall away. His free hand grasped his erection, sliding the plump tip along the parting of her body and allowing it to bump her clit, the smooth, hot skin against hers as these mutually sensitive spots of flesh met, making her tremble slightly with building anticipation. Her fingers anchored on his shoulders before she leaned back, shifting her hips like he was already inside her, hoping the suggestion would be enough to make him want more.

She hadn't expected him to give her what she wanted so immediately, but he slipped into her body, inch by delectable inch, suddenly displaying a degree of patience she had no desire to indulge. She cried out a muffled sound of gratitude at the welcome intrusion, finally feeling his body sink into hers.

It wasn't clear if he was aware, but every time they'd been together since her return, he made the same sound when he entered her, full of dedication, appreciation, and maybe even devotion. Absence clearly did make the heart grow fonder and the body more needful, at least there was something to be gained in spite of the scars left in her leaving's wake. That honest and telling sound made her heart and core quiver, like he was hitting a note on a frequency that made every molecule of her body vibrate with his. She loved that note, flawlessly tuned between their energies, the perfection of it so startling that sometimes it almost hurt.

This wasn't a time for slow and tender. This was a time for passion and fire, the two lovers who'd faced pain and death as well as victory and redemption side-by-side. And after all of the tests and trials, they were still unwilling to surrender.

He yanked the army green jacket from her shoulders, seeming to notice suddenly that she was too clothed for his liking. Her shirt and bra, though, were inconveniences that would have to be dealt with a different way. She felt the prickling scratch of his stubble through the spaces in the fabric before his lips pinched her nipple through layers of clothing. Her shirt grew damp as he sucked, racking his teeth over her while his body sought her depths.

His thumb reached between her legs, urging her toward the precipice so soon after they started. She wondered if he had any idea how turned on she already was without any such encouragement, how close to the seemingly inevitable peak she'd been the moment they'd started touching each other, even before, if she were to be totally honest. She removed his hand, directing it to join the other on her ass, lifting her body like she was nearly weightless as he disappeared into her. He leaned back just a little, her weight balancing on him without anything else to keep her from falling to the floor, gravity encouraging the full depth of each penetration.

Amidst the pace of this feverish coupling, she felt the way he filled her with each thrust, finding the end of her over and over, his lips occasionally brushing the skin between her neck and shoulder. Her hands moved into his open shirt, feeling the sheen of sweat on his skin and the needful grunts that vibrated through his ribs.

Her teeth seized his earlobe before she said, "Hurry. So close," and he completely let loose, the subtle but present attempt to hold back lost in the commotion. Her hands bracing on the edge of the sink and top ledge of the metal shelves, her body kicked out toward his. Even in the frenzy of their meeting, their rhythm was synchronous, breath and hearts matched, until they collided into a wall of pleasure. He froze with a low groan, his body almost impossibly rigid as he remained firmly ensconced within her tight, pulsing core.

Her hands still braced on the objects around her, her hips lurched against him a few more times, letting the overpowering grip of orgasm gradually relax into less thunderous twinges as she whispered the moan of absolute release and resolution.

He stepped against the wall, pushing her back flush against it, the pressure of his body against her pelvis making her softly squeal, her arms hanging heavily behind his back and body slack against him. The small room was filled with their ragged breaths as his mouth moved to hers for one more kiss that was patient in a way he was unable to be only moments earlier.

"Did not see that coming," he said with a weak chuckle.

She laughed, trying to tease him about his comment, but finding that her brain wasn't quite quick enough yet.

"I needed that," she confessed.

"I'm requesting a transfer," he said, lifting his head to smile tenderly at her, "to the bomb squad."

"Either that or the maintenance department," she replied, looking around the closet. Hearing the vibration from her phone still trapped in her pants on the floor behind him, she warned, "We need to meet up with the rest of the team."

"Yea," he regretfully said, putting her feet back on the floor. His hand braced on the wall next to her, he shook his head, giving a final nod to his complete disbelief.

She chuckled as he stepped away, pants around his ankles, shirt open, and badge still hanging around his neck. "What?" he asked.

"I just…that was so…," she felt herself giggling, unable to complete the thought. For a moment, the flush of embarrassment was almost overwhelming. "At least we didn't get caught," she said as he handed her panties to her.

"You still surprise me," he admitted.

"I didn't expect you to go along with it either."

"Perks of not being the boss anymore," he mused, "maybe they won't even notice if we're late for the meeting."

She tilted her head and cast her best look of disbelief. "We need to go."

Jane found her jacket hanging over the sink, grateful to have something to cover the wet patch he'd left on her shirt over her breast. As hurriedly as possible, they fixed themselves up and tried to put everything back in place in the closet. Kurt swung open the door and Jane followed, bumping her shoulder into his as they shared a knowing look.

"You guys get dirty?" Zapata asked from behind them as she and Patterson approached.

Jane and Kurt, startled, looked over their shoulders to see the pair closing in. Jane stifled the desire to ask what in the hell their friends were doing down there.

Jane began, "I spilled my water—"

"Needed paper towels," Kurt augmented immediately.

"Yea," Jane finished, catching Zapata's accusatory grin.

"So where are these paper towels?" Zapata questioned.

"We were putting them back _after_ cleaning up the spill," Jane calmly retorted.

"Come on," Patterson said, elbowing Tasha, "they wouldn't be crazy enough to actually get frisky in there."

"Yea, you're right," Tasha added. "Besides, I'm sure they know that Reade had security cameras installed in the closets because of theft."

"Two pros would definitely notice something like that," Patterson agreed.

"We better get to the meeting," Zapata said. Looking at Kurt and Jane, she asked, "You guys okay? You look a little flushed."

"Fine," Kurt coolly answered, but Jane could feel the panic beneath the calm exterior, the very same panic she felt bubbling within her. "W—we should get to that meeting."

The trip in his words was almost undetectable, but Jane noticed. "You have access to all of that security footage?" she asked Patterson.

"Of course I do," Patterson replied.

"Relax, guys," Tasha gloated, "there's no cameras in there. But you aren't fooling anyone. A little time apart and you guys are all kinds of reckless. I never thought you two were that interesting."

"Watch out for the quiet ones," Patterson teased as she and Zapata passed them and continued down the hall.

"I'm kinda impressed," Zapata commented, "in a slightly disturbed kind of way."

"I'm just relieved that, for once, they weren't on comms," Patterson added.


End file.
